by Molly Ringle
The tokens were entrusted only to the top priest or priestess of each site and guarded with the utmost care.
“Is this such a good idea?” Hekate asked Hermes, one evening after they had handed out their fifth token on the island of Lemnos. “Won’t the wrong people get in eventually?”
It had been discussed often enough in the meetings, so it was by now a rhetorical question. She was seeking reassurance, not new information. He slipped his arm around her. “Likely they will, at some point. But the wild beasts will eat them if they try to get anywhere. There’s a faint chance it’ll give someone the advantage if they’re looking to find and kill an immortal, but not much of an advantage. And what it does do is give our allies a chance to protect themselves or leave a message for us, unmolested. Or to see off their departed.”
He spoke the last bit softly. In most places, the mortal temple worshippers had thought of a use for the sacred spots that Hekate hadn’t foreseen. If you took a dying person there and brought them into the other realm to breathe their last, you could watch their soul pull free before your eyes, and exchange clearer goodbyes than you might have gotten otherwise. It gave people such comfort that the immortals let them do it. By performing this ritual, the mortals fully understood and believed in the true afterlife, and returned afterward to their daily lives with more tranquility.
“Giving them this knowledge isn’t a perfect solution,” Hermes conceded. “But it’s better than withholding it from them.”
***
Dionysos brought Ariadne from Crete to meet the other immortals. When he escorted her to the Underworld for her first visit, Hekate took an instant liking to the woman. Ariadne was small in frame, with paler skin and redder hair than most Greeks, and she was older than Hekate expected, likely around forty. Her face was lovely, full of feistiness and intelligence. Hekate sensed it even before taking Ariadne’s hand in greeting and confirming her generous strength of spirit. She also sensed (and saw) Ariadne’s trepidation at being among the souls of the dead, so Hekate smiled to put her at ease, and encouraged her to talk of her journey.
It turned out Crete was becoming less enlightened than it had been in Hades’ and Rhea’s day. As high priestess in Knossos, Ariadne had held out against Thanatos as long as she could, but even the king had fallen sway to the cult. Many in the Goddess’ temple had been killed, and the resistance against Thanatos was falling apart as people fled for their lives, or turned meekly silent to stay safe. The Knossos palace was finally overtaken by the king’s guards. Ariadne had been thrown into the labyrinthine prison within the palace complex, where captured wild animals also prowled. She would certainly have been eaten by them, or at least would have starved to death, if Dionysos hadn’t tracked her, appeared inside the labyrinth, and rescued her.
The fact that he could track her meant, of course, that they had already slept together, which was no surprise to Hekate. He had been going to visit Ariadne for months by this point.
Soon, at the assembled meeting of immortals, Dionysos formally proposed Ariadne’s name to the group as a candidate for immortality.
“I intend to marry her,” he said, “whether or not she’s voted in. I know some of you will understand.” He cast a smile toward Poseidon, who had married Amphitrite when she was mortal; and another toward Hekate, who was of course the offspring of Hades and the once-mortal Persephone. Hekate smiled back in encouragement.
The group voted Ariadne in, with just two black stones against her. Dionysos married her not long after.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
What made Sophie’s heart feel different lately, what made the darkness seem to be lifting—aside perhaps just from time passing—was her memories of Galateia and Akis. She rarely texted anything to Adrian about them, and he rarely asked how they were unfolding. But discovering them in her mind, and knowing he shared them, felt almost as sweet as the discovery of her Persephone memories had last fall.
On a morning in early February, as she made breakfast in the Airstream and waited for Tab to finish her shower, she replayed the sweet memory she had dreamed last night.
Galateia at age fourteen, dragged along through the village one day by her father and older brothers, snagged gazes with a boy her own age going the opposite direction. He had dark, smooth hair falling to his shoulders, a wreath of fresh bay leaves on his head, and a crooked nose but the loveliest brown eyes. They gazed at each other and the world seemed to slow. She looked over her shoulder as they passed. He was looking back at her too.
Galateia thought herself ugly. The standard of beauty for Sicilians at the time included lovely skin as the top priority, which decidedly meant no freckles. And Galateia was all freckles. It wasn’t fair—her brothers hardly had any, but she was speckled in brown from toes to forehead. Plus she was short, undeveloped for a fourteen-year-old, and no good at arranging her hair, which had a way of slipping out of every pin or string she tried to confine it with. Studying Galateia, her mother often shook her head and said things like, “Well, at least you have good teeth,” or “Your eyes are nice enough, anyhow.”
But the way this boy was looking at her, she almost believed he saw something better than “nice enough.”
Unfortunately, his brown cloak and bay leaves proclaimed him an attendant at the Goddess’ temple, as did the company he walked with: priests and priestesses. Galateia’s parents were not worshippers of the temple. They’d heard disturbing stories about unnatural beings, favorites of the temple folk, who were looking to overthrow humankind. Street preachers had told them all about it, they said. Galateia had no reason to doubt her parents, and hadn’t given the matter much thought since she didn’t have any close friends who belonged to the temple. But now she found herself thinking that no boy so lovely, so clearly gentle, could possibly be a dangerous enemy of humankind.
Sophie poured boiling water through the ground coffee, and puffed out her cheeks in an exhalation. Galateia’s own parents, members of Thanatos? Yikes. That was a star-crossed set-up for sure. But Adrian and Zoe had said Galateia’s lifetime turned out all right, so she’d do her best not to worry.
Anyway, they were all here now, alive again. Somehow, after weeks of feeling lost in a fog, she was finally coming into a clearer patch where she caught sight of that thought once more and managed to hang onto it more often than not.
When Tab had showered and breakfasted, they put on their coats and went outside.
“Groundhog Day,” Tab noted.
“Yep.” Sophie glanced up at the sky. “Cloudy. Guess that means early spring instead of six more weeks of winter.”
“At least if the same weird-ass rodent rules apply in Greece, in the spirit realm.”
“I hope they do. Spring sounds good.”
Tab looked around. “Where you want to go?”
Sophie turned to the rocky hill. “Up.”
They began hiking to the top.
Tab glanced back at where they had left Liam, with Zoe in his trailer and Terry and Isabel outside it. “Where’s Liam in his memories?” Tab asked.
“He’s gotten a lot farther. Poseidon and Amphitrite had their daughters. Amphitrite and the girls became immortal. The youngest got killed by Thanatos—he didn’t like that.”
“Oh, is that when he was being a grump a few days ago and wouldn’t talk to anyone?”
Sophie nodded. “Now it sounds like he’s getting to maybe the decline of the Greek gods. ‘Everyone’s getting bummed out’ is how he put it. So he’s slowing down on the memories and focusing on real life. Which is probably healthy.”
“Yeah, we do have plenty of shit to take care of in the here and now. Like an actual prisoner, for one.”
Sophie grimaced. The thought of Landon, and how close he now resided to all of them, still sent unease writhing through her. She knew her parents acted as his prison guards sometimes, but she personally hadn’t been to see Landon again, nor had Liam. “Sounds like Niko and Zoe wrung some info out of him, at least.”
; “Not as much as they’d like, but yeah, they’re working on it.”
“Even gave him the pomegranate. I’m still not sure about that.”
“Me neither,” Tab said. “But then again, I don’t know. Charming him over to our side might be our best hope. He does seem easier to sway than some people.”
“I suppose I don’t want to execute him. Or let him go, all full of hatred for us. So, fine, converting him’s the only other option. Still sounds crazy.” They reached the top of the cliff. Sophie gazed out at the sea as she caught her breath from the climb, then she looked over at Tab.
Tab waggled her eyebrows. “Ready?”
Sophie took out a lighter and held it up. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
From the pocket of her leather coat, Tab pulled out a string of firecrackers, broke one free, and handed it to Sophie.
Sophie turned her back to the wind to shield the fuse, and after a deep breath, flicked on her lighter. She’d been practicing fire exposure for the past week, starting with the candles and moving up to building a fire in a circle of rocks they’d arranged outside the trailers as a fire pit. Though proximity to flame still raised her heart rate, the effect was receding a bit every time. Now, faced with starting an explosion, even just a dinky one, her panic kicked up strong again. But she motored past: she lit the firecracker’s fuse, then flung it several feet away, more of a flail than a graceful toss. When it exploded with a bang, she jolted, but then laughed afterward at her own reaction—and laughed because Tab had jolted too.
“Right on, dude.” Tab handed her another firecracker. “Try again. I brought this whole string up here; I’m not carrying ‘em back down. You’ve got to light them all.”
Sophie lit off every firecracker, one by one. By the last one, she was flinging them with flair, and cheering rather than jumping when they exploded.
“I think someone is getting her comfort levels back,” Tab said after the last bang. She seized Sophie in a big hug that lifted Sophie off the ground, then put her down. “You feel like going out? Buy yourself some cute new jeans, maybe?”
“Yeah, maybe. Just a sec.” Sophie got out her phone, called up the list, and sent a strikethrough across the word “explosions.” She tucked the phone away. “Let’s shop. Clothes sound good, but I also need a new computer, since the old one got melted in the fire. There’s only so much online stuff I can do from my phone.”
“Excellent. We can make that happen.”
“Plus I want to restock the Airstream’s pantry. I miss making real dinners.”
“Girl, I’ve been missing your cooking.” Tab danced ahead, leading the way back down the hill.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ooh, yeah.” Zoe touched the snowdrop’s flower buds. “Something promising there. Health energy of some kind. That’s the usual for plants down here, isn’t it. Getting turned into medicines.”
“That or food.” Sophie watched, itching to know what Zoe felt when she touched the plants. She had brought Zoe down here to check on the magical development of her spring bulbs now that they’d had a few weeks to stretch their roots into the Underworld soil. “What about the bluebell?” She swung the flashlight beam onto the next bud over.
Zoe set her fingertips on that one. “Hmm, similar. Health of some kind, not sure what yet. As for the crocus…” She touched the pale orange tip of flower that was starting to open. “Whoa.”
“What?” Sophie said in alarm.
“Oh, it’s all right, just not what I expected.” She kept touching the tiny plant at different angles, upon leaf and stem and bud. “We had crocus down here before, mostly for medicine. You probably remember.”
“Yeah,” Sophie said. “But this one’s different?”
“Quite. Must be a different variety. There’s some of that health energy in it, but also something much stronger. Something about…time. Strength. Permanence? Or at least, near-permanence. Maybe that’s it.”
“Permanence? What would that do?”
Zoe sat back on her heels, gazing at the sprouts. “Well, it feels kind of like the spell I cast to protect something—to make something last. Like the one I put on the clay jar with the owls way back when. We got lucky; that jar was well hidden, but usually the spells do wear off, you know. I’m not sure, but feels like maybe if I used this plant in combination with a spell like that, it might help it stick longer.”
“That sounds handy. A permanent protection spell, or at least a longer-lasting one?”
“Yeah.” Zoe patted the dirt next to the crocus. “But we have to let these guys grow a bit more first. They’re not full strength yet, and we don’t have many of them.” She stood and dusted off her knees, then grasped the titoki tree’s leaves. “Now how about this pretty lady? Ah. Interesting.” She stroked its branch. “Huh.”
“What?” Sophie prodded.
“I’m not sure how to describe it. It’s…in touch with the Fates, or Tartaros, or just all the criss-crossing energies, but especially the ones down here.”
Sophie blinked at the modest little tree. “Aren’t all the magic plants down here in touch with that stuff?”
“Yeah, it’s just, this one’s, like, channeling those forces, the ones that judge the souls and put them in Tartaros or not.”
Sophie shivered. “Yikes. So it’s a scary tree.”
“Oh, no, not at all. It’s only kinda…picking up that station and rebroadcasting it. It’s a signal-booster tree.” She gave Sophie a grin.
“So what good is that?”
Zoe straightened up, chewing her lip as she gazed at the titoki. “What good indeed. I’ll have to ponder that.” She flicked her bangs out of her eye. “Let’s check on our chrysomelia.”
They tromped through the wilderness that had once been Persephone’s tidy gardens. Some of the original garden plants were still here, but gone wild: nettles and mints and berry bushes all battling in a tangle. It needed work. Project for this year, perhaps. After Thanatos was dealt with.
They passed through the pomegranate orchard and reached the orange tree. Sophie knelt and slid her thumb across the fruits. The two oranges were now bigger than golf balls, and their green skin was yellowing toward orange. You’d never know they had blue flesh inside.
Zoe crouched next to her and touched the fruits too. “Almost there. I’m starting to feel the power in them. I’d say they’re not full strength, though. Give ‘em a couple weeks.”
“If we have a couple weeks. Thanatos is sure to be getting all up in our business any day now.”
“Ah, well, that’s what this is for.” Zoe untied the strip of sage-green cloth knotted around the trunk and opened it to show Sophie the tiny coil of hairs inside: black, brown, and blonde. Sophie remembered pulling out a few of her hairs to give to Zoe, the day Zoe was running around setting up wards. She’d been collecting them from everyone. “Special-access spell,” Zoe said. “Only the people whose hairs are in here—that is, our group—can see the thing this is attached to; namely, this tree.” She wrapped the hairs up and tied it back onto the trunk.
“Awesome. So, what, for everyone else it’s invisible? Would they just walk into the tree because they couldn’t see it?”
“Invisible, yeah, but they should walk round it. Should sort of repel them without their noticing.”
“But, brute force…” Sophie had to ask.
Zoe’s features seemed to fall into shadow. “Well. Yeah. Someone sets off a grenade round here, this little spell isn’t going to protect the tree.” She forced a brighter look onto her face. “But that’s what the other wards are for, the ones I reinforce every day so they’re fresh. One outside the cave, one in the entrance tunnel, one at the river, one at the edge of the gardens…same deal, you guys can all walk through them because I’ve buried hair-bundles like that at each wall, but others would be stopped.”
“But the wards weaken every day?”
“Gradually, yeah.” Zoe sighed, standing back up to full height and raking her hand through her h
air. “Magic’s never as perfect as you’d like. There’s always some counter-spell or shakedown someone else can do to mess up yours. Which is why I hope we put together a murderous ghost army who just stabs invaders as soon as they get in here.”
“I’m liking that idea,” Sophie said.
They started hiking back toward the fields.
“Hey, I almost forgot,” Zoe said. “I’ve not been giving you two the anti-nightmare magic for a few days now. Got lost in the shuffle. Should I start up again?”
“Oh.” Sophie lifted her eyebrows. “I hadn’t realized. No, it’s fine, actually. I’m letting in the memory dreams again, and they’re keeping me happy. Liam seems fine too, but you can ask him.”
“All right then. Brilliant.”
“Hey,” Sophie added shyly. “Thanks for not asking me if I planned to eat one of the chrysomelia.”
Zoe tapped Sophie’s arm with her flashlight. “Took great restraint. But I still hope you eat one.”
“We should vote people in properly, like in the old days. So first the group has to approve me.”
Zoe snorted. “Yeah, ‘cause we might chuck you out. But I suppose you’re right. Best get ourselves some black and white voting stones.”
Chapter Forty
Hekate followed the sense of her parents’ souls one day when they were fourteen, intrigued to note they seemed to be near each other. In fact, as she tracked them down on foot, along a forest path between their villages, she soon realized they were together. Her heart pounded in delight. She had been seeking some way to introduce them, to give the Fates a nudge, but apparently these two souls were already pulling toward one another.
She edged up to a large tree trunk and peeked around it.
